Amanda made a face. “Are we twelve?”
“I act twelve and you act eighty. We balance out to sassy middleage.”
“Hey, now.” She had to protest, even if it was true.
“Well?”
“She. Quinn Sullivan. Based in Ithaca. Came highly recommended byRob over at Fairmount Ridge Winery.”
Erin hummed her approval. “Excellent. Age? Orientation? Is shehot? Single?”
“I’m hiring her, not hooking up with her.”
“You say that like it can’t be both.”
Erin dated. Amanda did not. Pretty much ever at this point. Notthat she was opposed. She just had plenty of other things to occupy her time.And her last attempt a few years prior had left her disappointed, if notcompletely jaded. Much like her opinion of Mel, Erin’s thoughts on Amanda’scelibacy were singularly focused. Like with Mel, Amanda had a stock answer.“I’m not looking to hook up. Certainly not with someone I’m working with.”
“You should consider being a little less picky.”
“Because lowered standards are the key to happily ever after?”
Erin wagged a finger. “Nobody said anything about ever after.We’re talking about the here and now. And if a hot woman shows up tomorrow, youhave no reason not to invite her over for dinner and take her to bed.”
“I couldn’t possibly.” The mere thought sent a tingle of nervesthrough her.
“You could. It’s the would, or maybe the won’t, that’s trippingyou up and I think it’s high time you got over it.”
Amanda shook her head again but laughed. “I’ll take it underconsideration.”
“Good. Now, tell me about your plans.”
“That’s what I was trying to do when you hijacked theconversation with sex talk.”
“Sex”—Erin poked her right in the chest—“is the conversation. Andmaybe you should consider being hijacked. It would be good for you.”
Instead of arguing, she launched into her ideas for the bakery.The added seating would make Bake My Day a place where people could sit andenjoy, rather than just pick up, their favorite treat. She planned to startlunch service in earnest. She’d dabbled in soup and sandwiches but wanted toadd more options. Salads. Quiche, perhaps.
It also meant she’d have a dedicated space for decorating cakes.As weddings and bachelorette parties and birthdays got fancier, the demand forhigh-end cakes grew exponentially. New space would mean she could frost andfondant without disrupting the baking that gave her the cakes to frost in thefirst place. It was a lot to take on, but she was ready. At least that’s whatshe told herself every time she had a moment of what the hell had she beenthinking.
Erin nodded and tutted her agreement. “I love it. So, thisarchitect, Quinn, is going to design it? Or do it? I’m not sure I know what anarchitect does.”
She hadn’t either, beyond designing buildings from the ground up.But Rob assured her it was worth it to hire a pro and she trusted his judgment.“She’s going to assess the space, assess what can be done, and hopefully comeup with something that doesn’t look like I knocked down a wall and hoped for thebest.”
“Fun.”
“And hopefully she has contractors she works with because Ireally, really don’t want to deal with contractors.”
Erin lifted both hands. “Preach.”
They’d both had less than stellar experiences—Erin with abathroom remodel and Amanda with an update of her kitchen. “Rob swears shesaved him money in the long run.”
“Even if she doesn’t, saved headaches are priceless.” Erin sippedher coffee and looked up at the ceiling. “Hot and fuckable would be bonus.”
“Erin.” She hadn’t meant to use her scolding mom voice; it cameout of its own volition.
Erin shrugged, unfazed. “I’m just saying. Anyway, what time isshe coming? Maybe I can time my morning coffee to snag a look.”
“You realize that makes me less likely to tell you the truth,right?”
“I’d behave.” She fluttered her eyelashes, all innocence.
“I love you like a sister, but no, you would not.”
“It’s why you love me.”
That part was true. Erin had fewer filters, fewer inhibitions,and a bigger taste for adventure. And wine. Between that and being a decadeyounger, Erin managed to keep Amanda from becoming too much of a stick in themud. “It is.”
She sighed. “I don’t want to go to work.”
“But if you don’t, who will keep the streets of Kenota safe?”
“Yeah, that pack of raccoons has really been terrorizing folks.”
“Easy for you to say. They’ve not upended your garbage twice inthe last week and a half.”
Erin pressed her lips together. “Tragic.”
Amanda stood and smacked her on the arm. “Get out of here. I’vegot work to do.”
“Fine. Do I want a donut for the road or a croissant?”
“Um.” It was a rhetorical question, but she couldn’t help butthink on it. Erin, who ate like a linebacker and never gained an ounce, hadalready inhaled a muffin with her coffee.
Erin waved her off. “What am I saying? I’ll take both.”
Of course she would. “I’m going to leave you in Mei’s capablehands.”
Amanda gave her a hug and headed back to the kitchen. She foundher assistant Tanya filling a row of cake pans. “I’ve got one more batch afterthis and the table is yours.”
When she’d opened the bakery fifteen years prior, the kitchen hadfelt massive. Compared to her home kitchen, where she’d baked cakes and cookiesas a side hustle to her job at the Statler Hotel, it was. Even if she hadmoments of frustration with her current situation, outgrowing her space was avery satisfying problem to have. “Take your time. I’m going to make modelingchocolate and start the gum paste flowers for next weekend.”
“When are you meeting with the architect again?”
She laughed. Tanya’s interest might be even keener than Erin’s,but it had nothing to do with whether or not the architect was hot. Or single.“Tomorrow.”
Tanya slid pans into the convection oven. “Not a moment toosoon.”
* * *
Quinn studied the front of Bake My Day. She’d been there ahandful of times, mostly with Lesedi. They’d spend Saturdays meandering theSeneca Lake wine trail and would stop in for coffee or a fortifying treat aftersampling one too many local vintages. It somehow felt like a lifetime ago andjust last week. Was that standard protocol for life a year after divorce?
Inside,
